


The Best of Both Worlds

by VivArney



Category: Kung Fu: The Legend Continues, Silk Stalkings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 11:04:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5624659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VivArney/pseuds/VivArney





	The Best of Both Worlds

Sunday, February 8th:   
Cassandra St. John was enjoying her first evening at home in weeks. She had a glass of cool white wine, a good book and a tub full of bubbles waiting for her. She removed her robe and had raised her foot to step into the tub when the purring of the phone stopped her. She groaned, slipped back into her robe and stomped back into her bedroom.  
"This better be good!" she growled into the receiver.

"Cassy, it's Harry...," he paused. "I... Tom's been taken to the hospital."

"Oh, no! Is he okay? What happened?"

There was silence on the other end of the line.

"Harry?"

"We're not sure yet. It looks bad, Cassy."

"I'll be right down." 

* * * * * 

The trip to the hospital seemed to take forever. She parked and ran in through the automatic doors and almost ran over Harry.

"How is he?"

"They're still working on him."

"Have you called his parents yet?"  
Harry shook his head. "We can't. They went off to Yellowstone - roughing it, remember?. There aren't any phones and no quick way to find them. It's a big place, Cassy."

She nodded. "I want to see him."

"Who's she?" a nurse asked as the two of them tried to enter the emergency room.

"She's his ex-wife," Harry answered. 

"I'm sorry, nobody can go back there just now," she told them. 

"They're still treating him. You can see him after he's been moved to a room. In the meantime, maybe you can help me with his paperwork."

"I'll try," Cassy agreed.

The nurse, whose name tag identified her as Jackie Templar, led them to a waiting room and she and Cassy took seats on a sofa while Harry took a chair nearby. 

"Harry, what happened?" Cassy asked after the paperwork had been completed and Nurse Templar had left the room.

He sighed. "We aren't completely sure. A busboy at the Fairbanks noticed something odd when he went to take out the trash. He found a man lying in the alley and had somebody call 911. Mike Simon, one of the uniforms, recognized Tom and called the ambulance, then he called me at home."

"Was he shot?"  
Harry took a deep breath and shrugged. "That's all I know, Cassy."

"To answer your question: No, he wasn't shot. However, I haven't seen so much damage since the last heavy-weight prize fight I worked. He looks like he went a couple of rounds with Mike Tyson - and lost."  
They looked up to see a tall, middle-aged man with sandy blond hair and deep set blue eyes standing just inside the door.

"What?"

"Whoever beat up your officer did a first class job, Captain Lipschitz," the doctor said. "Doctor Duncan Chambers," he said, holding out a hand.

"Is he going to be all right?" Cassy asked after she and Harry had introduced themselves.

Dr. Chambers took a deep breath. "With time. Your partner's been worked over by an expert - more likely a couple of them. He's essentially one big bruise, but as far as we can tell, there're no internal injuries. He's got a possible concussion, three cracked ribs on the left side, greenstick fractures of both the ulna and radius of the right arm, severe bruising on his face and torso. His eyes, nose and throat are pretty irritated - they must have used some variation of pepper spray and he's had a particularly nasty reaction to it. He's breathing just fine, but don't be surprised if he has difficulty speaking when he comes around. We've run some tests and we should know more in the morning. Fortunately, he's in excellent shape or things might have been much worse."

Harry nodded. "I'll..." he cleared his throat. "I'll need a copy of your notes and his admission records, so we can investigate this properly." 

Doctor Chambers nodded. "I'll have it ready for you in about half an hour."

"Can I see him?" Cassy asked.

Chambers nodded. "He hasn't come to, yet. I'll warn you, though, he's not a pretty sight."

"I don't care, I have to see him."

"Certainly. I'll have somebody take you up."

"Thank you." 

* * * * * 

Jackie Templar returned a while later and took them up to a private room. 

Cassy couldn't suppress a gasp as she opened the door and spotted her partner for the first time.

Tom Ryan was, as the doctor had warned them, a mess. A breathing tube was in his nose. There were bandages over some of the worst cuts on his face which was a mass of bruises, his hands, too, were bruised and bandages covered each knuckle and his right forearm was splinted. Any further injuries were covered by the hospital gown. 

"I thought Dr. Chambers said he wasn't having trouble breathing," Cassy said to the nurse, indicating the breathing tube.

"He's not," Jackie answered. "That's just to make it easier for him."

"Looks like he put up a fight," Harry muttered, pointing to the cuts and bruises on Tom's hands. He glanced over at Cassy worriedly.

The pretty blonde was as pale as the sheet that covered her partner's still form and her body was shaking.

Harry put his arm around her and pulled her to him. "It'll be okay, Cassy," he whispered. "Tom's gonna be fine. You've got to remember that." He knew that neither of the two young officers had ever been seriously injured in the line of duty before. He'd seen too many fellow officers hurt or killed in his time and it never got any easier. 

"I just feel so helpless!" she whispered, biting her lip.

"I know, Cassy, I'd worry if you didn't. I've had nightmares about Frannie being in the same position. I'd hate to put her through this."

"What was he doing there, Harry?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know, Cassy. We'll just have to wait for him to come around to find out."

Cassy had moved to the bed and was holding Tom's left hand gingerly. Except for the tears running down her face, she seemed perfectly normal. She looked up at the nurse. "Can I stay with him? I... I want to be here when he wakes up."

She nodded. "Of course, Ms. St. John, but I seriously doubt he'll come to before morning."

"I know. I just..."

"I understand. I'll let the floor nurse know." She turned to Harry. 

 

"Captain, if you'll come with me, Dr. Chambers has the information you requested."

The door closed quietly behind Harry and the nurse and Cassy released her partner's hand just long enough to pull the chair up to the bed and sit down before she picked up Tom's hand again.

When the floor nurse came in sometime later to check on her patient, she found the pretty blonde asleep with her head on the bed still holding her partner's hand. She made the required notations on her charts, dimmed the lights, put a spare blanket around the young woman's shoulders and returned to her duties. 

* * * * * 

Harry joined the other officers in the alley of the hotel where Tom had been found.

"Anything, Michelle?" he asked.

The female officer shook her head. "Sorry, sir. We tracked the blood stains back to the parking garage, but there's no sign of a struggle in there."

"Have you found his wallet?"

She shook her head again. "No, sir. Looks like a mugging to me."

Harry's eyes burned with fury. "Officer Muselli, one of my detectives is lying in a hospital bed. We have thousands of dollars in sophisticated equipment at our disposal and the best you can give me is "Looks like a mugging?'"   
"Sir, we've checked - there were no witnesses and so far no evidence. It has to have been a mugging."

Harry ran his hands down his face. "I'm sorry, Michelle. I... after what happened to Chris Lorenzo, I guess I'm a little on edge."

"I understand, Harry. How's Tom doing?"

"It's not good, but he'll make it. Look, have the uniforms do another sweep. They've got to find something."

"You got it, Harry." 

* * * * * 

Waves of pain washed over him as he struggled up from the depths of unconsciousness. He couldn't remember another time when he'd hurt this badly. What had happened to him? His eyes burned and opening them took an almost Herculean effort. That done, he looked around carefully without moving his head - somehow, he knew that would only bring more pain. He was in a hospital. The room was dimly lit and a gorgeous blonde was sleeping in a chair next to the bed, holding his hand.  
Okay, so she knew him. Could be interesting. Big question was, did he know her? His mind was full of fog and he wasn't sure of much right now, only that he ached all over and that he was in a hospital somewhere. The effort to keep his eyes open was too much and he closed them and drifted back into the place where the pain didn't exist. 

* * * * * 

Michelle Muselli turned back to Harry with a puzzled expression on her face. "Harry?"

"What is it?"

"I know this sounds strange, but we still haven't found Tom's car or anything else to indicate he was ever here."

"We know he was here! He was found in the alley."

"Harry, aside from the bloodstains leading out into the alley, we can't find a thing."

"You checked with Hotel Security?"

She nodded. "First thing. According to "Bubba" over there," she turned to indicate a pot-bellied, balding man in a uniform that looked like it had been a Mayberry reject. "the cameras that should cover this area have been on the fritz for a month or so. He seemed rather proud that the hotel had recently hired a group of singing waiters, though."

"Sounds like management's got their priorities," he mumbled.

"Huh?"

"Nothing. Okay, bag up whatever you've got and let everybody go."  
She nodded. 

* * * * * 

His throat and eyes felt like sandpaper as he woke sometime later. The pretty blonde was still there, only this time she was awake and watching him, her face filled with concern. He swallowed and winced at the pain. She was at his side in a heartbeat, holding a cup of cool water to his lips.

She smiled down at him. "Not too fast," she warned softly. 

He drank carefully, the cool water felt wonderful going down. He emptied the cup, then relaxed against the pillow. "Thanks," he whispered.

"I hate to sound like a B movie, but don't try to talk, okay? The doctor said the pepper spray, or whatever they used, irritated your throat and you could damage your vocal cords permanently if you talk."

He flashed her an OK sign with his left hand and nodded.

"Can I..." she began. "I'm sorry, I'm not very good at this. Do you want some more water?"

He nodded.

She went off to refill the cup, but he was sleeping when she returned. 

* * * * * 

Monday, February 9th: 

Cassy woke to find the sun had come up hours earlier. She groaned, stiff from spending the night in an already uncomfortable chair. She looked over at the man lying in the bed. A pair of hazel eyes stared back at her. She squeezed his hand involuntarily and saw him wince. 

"Sorry," she mumbled. "I hope you feel better than you look," she told him awkwardly. She picked up the bed controls and raised the head of the bed so he could sit up.

He started to speak, but only managed a choking squawk.

"You've got to stay quiet, Tom. Remember what the doctor said about trying to talk. Of course, I wouldn't miss your singing all that much, but..."

He frowned, pulled his hand away from hers and pantomimed drinking.

"Okay, I'll get you something."

He motioned for something to write with.

She nodded. "Okay, that too."

Harry stepped in just as she opened the door. She told him where she was going and ducked out. Harry walked over to the bed, the concern in his dark eyes turning to encouragement as he looked down into the younger man's face. "Hey, you're looking better than you did last night, Thomas. Doctor Chambers says you're gonna be okay."

The man on the bed shook his head.

"No? What no?"

He tried to respond then slammed his fist into the mattress in frustration.

"Calm down, Tom. Cassy'll be back in a minute," he promised, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder.

Cassy returned with a cup of ice water, a tablet and a magic marker.   
She laid the tablet and marker in his lap and put the cup on the rolling table in front of him.

He reached forward and tried to pick up the cup, but his hand was stiff and he couldn't get his fingers to cooperate.

"Here," Cassy said. "Let me." She picked up the cup and helped him take a sip.

After a few sips, he gently pushed the cup away and tried to pick up the marker.

"Maybe we'd better wait til you feel a little better," Harry suggested. "It can wait."

He shook his head and tried again to pick up the marker.

Cassy pulled off the cap for him and placed it in his hand, gently wrapping his fingers around it.

He wrote something on the paper then held it up for them to read. 

"Who are you?" Harry read. He frowned. It was as difficult to read as Tom's usual hen-scratches - only made worse by the stiffness in his injured hand.

"You don't know us?" Cassy asked in amazement.

He shook his head. "Who's Tom?" he wrote.

"I'll get the doctor," Harry offered. "Maybe that crack on the head is worse than he thought." He left the room, but before he could return, Cassy caught up with him and told him that Tom had fallen back to sleep.

"Probably the best thing," the doctor said when they told him what had happened. "Temporary amnesia isn't uncommon in a situation like this, Cassy. Let him rest. We'll see how he's feeling later this afternoon."  
"By the looks of things, both of you could use some rest yourselves." He shooed them out of the room while he went in to examine his patient.

Harry looked at his watch. "Come on, Cassy. It's almost lunchtime and I need to go by the office for a little while. We'll come back this afternoon."

She frowned, glancing at the closed door. "I'm almost afraid to leave him, Harry."

He nodded. "I know, but he's not in any danger. I'll get a couple of uniforms down here and give them instructions just in case, then we'll go."

"Okay, Harry, I guess you're right." 

* * * * * 

"Palm Beach Police Detective Tom Ryan was brutally attacked last night in the parking garage of the Palm Beach Fairbanks Hotel," the too pretty, female, newscaster read. "Captain Harry Lipschitz of the Palm Beach Police Department reports that his officers are investigating the incident and expect an arrest soon. Detective Ryan is listed in critical condition at Community Hospital. In other news..."  
Frank Castaneda frowned at the television before he flicked it off and hurled the remote at the two men standing in his office. "He's alive, you idiots!"

"Hey, you didn't tell us he was some sort of Karate expert," Jeff complained.

"What?"  
"He looked pretty bad when we left him, Mr. C.," Juan said

"If he I.D.'s either of you, you'll be the ones found dead in some alley. I can't afford to have him testify at that trial next week. I'll give you another chance, but if you..."

"We'll take care of him, Mr. C.," Jake said worriedly. "He won't know what hit him."

"Get out of here, damnit!" 

* * * * * 

When Cassy and Harry returned to the hospital later that day, they went immediately to Tom's room.

"It was really weird, Harry. Tom looked like he didn't recognize either of us."

"I know, Cassy. I think the doctor's right, that crack on the head..."  
Cassy frowned as a man in a dark suit and green glasses approached them. 

"There's no reason he should know you," the man said quietly, "since I seriously doubt he's met either of you before."

"What?" Cassy asked, looking up.

Harry was suddenly furious. "And just who the hell are you?"

The man held up his badge and identification. "Name's Kermit Griffin. Doctor Chambers pointed you out to me, Captain Lipschitz. My friend in there," he indicated the closed hospital room door, "and I came down for the Forensics Conference."

"Well, I hate to disappoint you, but the man in that room is Sergeant Thomas Ryan, one of my best detectives," Harry insisted. 

"You wouldn't mind if I went in to see for myself, would you?"

"Yes, I would," Harry snapped. "Somebody did a pretty good job of working him over last night and I'm not letting anybody in there unless I know who they are."

Kermit nodded. "I can't say I blame you, Captain. Can I at least ask how he's doing?"

"He'll live," Harry snapped. He examined the younger man's identification critically. "I'd like to call your captain."

Griffin shrugged. "Fine. I'll even let you get the number for yourself, how's that?"

Harry gave him a threatening look and went off to find a telephone.

"I'm sorry, he's not usually so..."

Kermit held up a hand to stop her. "No apology necessary, Sergeant St. John," he said with a smile. "In fact, he reminds me of an old friend."

"You said you and your friend came down together?" Cassy asked. 

"What's his name?"

"Peter Caine," he answered. "When we got to the hotel, I went to check us in while he brought in our bags. He never came to the room." He removed his green glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly before he put the glasses back on. "I found blood on the bumper of the car and tried to talk to one of your uniforms about it last night, but they were busy with something else and didn't seem interested. They said Peter was an adult and had probably decided to get a beer or something. This guy obviously doesn't know Peter." He rubbed his eyes again. "It's taken me all night to find him."

"I wish I could help you, Detective Griffin, but..."

He grinned. "Call me Kermit."

She smiled. "I'm sorry, Kermit, but the man in there is my partner."

"Are you sure?"

"He's also my ex-husband."

"Oh."

"I'd better get back in there," she said. As she turned to open the door, she spotted a familiar figure turning the corner. She couldn't suppress a gasp of disbelief.

Kermit turned at her reaction and stared. "Well, I'll be damned!" he muttered in surprise.

"Cass? Marney said you and Harry were here. What's up?" Tom Ryan asked a mixture of curiosity and concern in his hazel eyes. He let out a yelp as Cassy slapped his face. "What was that for?"

"That's for making me worry, you stupid jerk!" she cried then flung herself into his arms, squeezing his ribs so hard that he grunted. She burst into tears.

"Can somebody tell me what's going on?" he asked, worriedly. He'd never seen her react this way before. "Who are you?"

Kermit introduced himself and tried to tell the younger man what had happened. He was only about halfway through when Harry returned, his eyes on Kermit's I.D.. "Well, your story checks out, but..." he stopped suddenly as he spotted his two officers. "Uhm, looks like I owe you an apology, Detective Griffin."

Kermit waved the apology away as he pocketed his I.D.. "No harm done, Captain. I'm sure Captain Simms would have reacted the same way if the circumstances were reversed."

"Tom, you're really okay?"

Tom Ryan shied away. "You're not going to hit me, too, are you?"

"I'm so relieved, I could kiss you."

"No thanks, Harry, maybe you should hit me instead." Tom was trying unsuccessfully to comfort his still sobbing partner. "Come on, Cassy, it's okay? Everything's all right," he murmured, stroking her blonde hair. "Look, Harry, can we go somewhere? We're drawing a crowd."  
Harry stood, staring in silence.

Kermit reached over and snapped his fingers in the older man's face and he blinked in surprise.

"Huh?"  
Tom repeated his request and Harry nodded. 

"Yeah. Why don't you take her into the waiting room, Tom? Kermit and I will go in and see what kind of statement we can get from... What was your friend's name?"

"Peter Caine."

"Yeah." Harry led Kermit into the hospital room.

The man on the bed was sleeping and Harry really didn't want to wake him. Speaking quietly, Harry told Kermit the extent of his friend's injuries and what they'd been able to find in their search of the parking garage. After a few minutes, Peter's eyes opened and Kermit walked over to stand beside the bed.

Peter's eyes lit up as soon as he spotted his friend. 

"I can't take you anywhere, can I?" Kermit said. "Looks like they really did a number on you."

The injured man tried to respond, but nothing intelligible came out.

"Quiet," Harry snapped. "You want to ruin your voice? Use the tablet!"

Peter lowered his eyes as Harry dropped the tablet of paper into his lap and handed him the marker.

Kermit smiled. "Harry reminds me of Paul," he told Peter. "And no Shaolin funny business this time, Peter, you're staying in that bed until the doctor says otherwise," he said, giving him a dangerous look. 

Peter glared at him, then picked up the marker awkwardly. "Let Pop know I'm okay!" he wrote.

Kermit nodded. "I'll call Mary Margaret as soon as I can," he promised. 

"Your father knew something was wrong almost before I did. He showed up at the Precinct around eight last night and refused to leave until Frank called me."

Peter tried to grin, but winced instead. "Sounds like Pop," he wrote.

"Peter, I'm sorry about the confusion," Harry said as he approached the bed. "I'm Captain Harry Lipschitz from the Palm Beach Homicide Department. I know you're not feeling very well, just now, but... well, you know the drill. If we're gonna find these guys..."

"I'll try. Didn't see much. Pepper spray," he wrote.

"I know, just give us what you can." 

* * * * * 

Tom led the still sobbing Cassy to one of the waiting rooms. He pushed her down into one of the sofas then walked over to the vending machine and got them both a cup of coffee. It was lukewarm and tasted like battery acid, but they'd had worse.

"Cassy, are you okay?"

"No, I'm not okay. I spent the whole night thinking that was you in that bed. And, if you must know, it scared the hell out of me."

"You spent the whole night worrying about me? I'm flattered."

She poked him in the ribs hard enough to make him yelp. "I just didn't want to break in a new partner."

"Liar."

She wiped at her eyes and blew her nose. "Okay! Yes, I was worried. It scared me half to death. Are you happy now?" She took a sip of the coffee and glared at him.

He put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. "Cassy, I'm sorry. If I'd known this had happened, I'd have come last night, believe me." 

"I know."

"I guess it was a pretty rough night for you."

"You could say that."

"This guy looks that much like me?"

She wiped her eyes and nodded. "Close enough to scare the hell out of us."

He ran a hand up and down her arm, trying to comfort her. "I don't know what to say, Cass."

"I'm sorry I hit you."

He smiled slightly and kissed her on the cheek. "I'm just glad to know you still care. Are you okay now?"

She wiped the last of her tears away and nodded. "Yeah. Thanks."

He grinned. "No problem. Now, let's go see this strange man you spent the night with."

She couldn't help but smile as he stood and pulled her to her feet. 

* * * * * 

With Harry asking questions and Kermit translating Peter's handwritten responses for a uniformed officer, the men slowly filled out a report. Peter hadn't really seen his attackers since they'd sprayed him with the pepper spray almost immediately. All he remembered clearly were blurs of blue and black. He had no idea why he'd been attacked. He didn't know anyone in Palm Beach and the men had been too calm to be run of the mill muggers. He finally laid back in the bed and let out a tired sigh.

"I think that's enough for now, Harry," Kermit warned.

"Yeah, you're right. Peter, why don't you try to get some more rest?"

He nodded, then wrote something on the pad and held it up to Kermit.  
"What is it?"

Kermit grinned. "He's hungry." He glanced at his watch. "No wonder, it's nearly six o'clock."

Harry smiled. "Then we'll get the nurse to get something for him." He looked up to see Tom and Cassy enter the room. "You okay, Cassy?"

She swallowed. "Yeah, Harry. Sorry."  
"No problem."

Tom Ryan and Peter Caine stared at each other in amazement - it was like looking in the mirror. 

Tom frowned. He could understand his friends' confusion. "Hi, Peter, I'm Tom Ryan."

Peter gave the other man a half smile and nodded. 

"I was just about to send Rico here to get Peter some dinner," Harry explained. 

The officer nodded and stood to leave the room.

Harry frowned. "Hey, Tom, where were you last night, anyway?"

Tom shrugged. "I picked up one of my old football buddies at the airport and took him sight-seeing. I dropped him off at his hotel and went home."

"What time was that?"

"I guess we were at the airport around seven or so," he answered. "We hit a couple of sights, had a few beers and I dropped him at his hotel around eleven."

Kermit snapped his fingers. "That means you, Peter and I were at the airport at about the same time."

"Yeah, so were about three or four hundred other people."

"Damn!" Harry exploded. "We're going the wrong way on this! Maybe they weren't after Peter at all, Tom. Maybe they were after you and they followed Peter instead. You two look enough alike to be twins."

Tom frowned. "I guess it's possible." He thought about it for a moment. "Off hand, I can't think of anyone who'd want to kill me right now. My latest cases haven't been that big. I'm supposed to testify in the Castaneda case on Tuesday, but that's about it." He turned to Peter. "If they were after me, I'm sorry they got you by mistake, Peter." 

Cassy slapped Tom on the arm. "Tom!"

He cleared his throat. "That was stupid - I'm sorry it happened at all, Peter," he said awkwardly.

Peter just grinned, then winced again.

Rico returned just then with a small covered bowl and spoon on a tray.   
He set it on the tray table. "The nurse says he can have this for now and, if he finishes it, he might get Jello for dessert," he said and left the room.

Peter lifted the lid and frowned.

"What's wrong?" Kermit asked worriedly.

Peter pushed the bowl in his friend's direction. Kermit glanced into it and laughed.

"What?" Harry asked.

Kermit shook his head. "Chicken and rice. Peter hates rice, but I think he's hungry enough to eat just about anything right now."

Peter shrugged, winced, then tried to pick up the spoon.

"I'll help you," Cassy offered.

"It's okay, Cassy," Kermit said. "I'll do it."

Peter elbowed his friend and gave him an "Are you nuts?" look, then nodded toward the pretty blonde.

Kermit grinned. "Okay, I get the point. Cassy, if you don't mind." He bent down and whispered, "Naughty boy, don't forget about Jordy," in Peter's ear.

"You never did that for me when I was sick," Tom complained.

Cassy gave him a dirty look and picked up the spoon.

"Can't tell they used to be married, can you?" Harry said. He pulled the used pages off Peter's tablet and put them with the report Rico had filled out. "I'm going back to my office. I'll have a couple of uniforms posted outside. Tom, I want you to stay out of sight, just in case this was a result of one of your cases."

Tom bent to whisper something to Cassy then straightened and turned to Harry. "Skipper, I think the best way for me to keep out of sight would be for me to stay here with Peter. A couple of officers in the hall would be a definite red flag. Besides, you wouldn't have to pull the uniforms off the street."

Harry nodded. "Good thinking. We'll just keep the mistaken identity thing under wraps - make 'em think it's Tom here and hope they try again so we can nail 'em. I'll have them bring in another bed for you, Tom, you might be here for a while." 

"Thanks." 

* * * * * 

"Caine, are you here?" Mary Margaret Skalany called as she entered Kwai Chang Caine's fourth floor apartment.

"I am here."

She found the Shaolin Priest at the worktable calmly adding herbs to a large mortar. "That smells wonderful! What is it?"

"Herbs for Peter," he answered as he lowered the pestle into the mortar and began crushing and mixing the ingredients. "He has been injured."

She started to ask him how he knew, but changed her mind. Caine always seemed to know when his son was hurt or in danger. "That's what I came about. I just got a call from Kermit. He said Peter wanted you to know that he's okay."

Caine nodded and sprinkled more herbs into the mortar. "Yes, I know."   
He turned to her. "Mary Margaret, I cannot go to my son. Mrs. Lim may go into labor at any moment. She is not strong and may lose one of her babies if I am not there to help, but I must get these potions to Peter. I do not know how I can do both."

"Well, you could FedEx it to Kermit with instructions or..."

His dark eyes bored into hers. She could see the concern in his face. She nodded. "Or, I could fly down to Palm Beach with them and make sure Peter takes his medicine."

He smiled and put a hand on her shoulder. "Please, Mary Margaret. I feel he is still in danger."

"Kermit's with him," she reminded him. "You couldn't ask for better protection."

He shook his head. "Kermit will be busy trying to find the men who attacked Peter. I would feel more comfortable if you were there, as well."

"Okay," she finally agreed. "I'll have to check with Captain Simms, but I don't think she'll have a problem. Tell me what to do."

He picked up a vial and explained what it was, what it would do to help Peter and the dosage.

After he'd explained the medicines, she kissed him good-bye and promised to get to Peter as soon as possible. Unfortunately, the next flight to Palm Beach wasn't until the next morning. She called Kermit at the hotel and let him know she would arrive the next day and after receiving assurances from him that Peter was doing very well, considering the circumstances, laid down to get some sleep. 

* * * * * 

Tuesday, February 10th: 

The next morning, Harry picked Kermit up at the hotel and took him to the police station. They grabbed cups of coffee and Harry led Kermit over to a heavy-set woman with dark hair and an expressionless face. "Marney, this is Detective Kermit Griffin. He's here to help find the scum who beat up Peter Caine." He turned to Kermit. "Marney's our resident computer expert."

"Hello, Marney," Kermit said.

"Nice to meet you, Detective Griffin," she replied, sounding as though she was intensely bored with the whole encounter. She looked up at Harry. "Harry, is the rumor true?"

"What rumor, Marney?"

"That this 'Peter Caine' looks like Tom Ryan?"

He nodded. "Yeah, except Peter Caine looks like he's been through a meat grinder right about now."

Marney hugged herself and shivered. "Two of them!" she muttered with an excited giggle. "Talk about the ultimate threesome!"

Kermit stared at her worriedly. "Is she all right?"

Harry shrugged. "I haven't seen her this excited since we installed that new modem. Don't worry about her, Kermit, she's harmless."  
"Harmless?"

Harry eyed the woman over his glasses. "Mostly harmless."  
Marney grinned up at Kermit and patted the empty seat beside her.  
Kermit had gone up against any number of terrorists, bullets, bombs, land mines and poisonous snakes, but sitting beside this woman made him distinctly uncomfortable.

"What exactly are we looking for?" Marney asked.

"I thought I might have a look at some of their more recent cases. Tom mentioned something about the Castaneda case. I'd like to take a peek at the notes on the case then Mr. Castenada's financial records, phone records..."

She nodded her understanding. "I like the way you think," she said as her fingers flew over the keys. While they waited for the information to appear, Marney turned to Kermit and asked in a soft voice. "So, what does Peter think of whipped cream and chocolate syrup?" 

* * * * *

Mary Margaret arrived in Palm Beach that afternoon. She didn't even bother to stop by the hotel, just went straight to the hospital. Kermit had given her Peter's room number the night before and she went straight up. She tapped on the door and stepped in to find two identical sets of hazel eyes staring at her. "Jeez! Kermit told me, but... Wow!"

The man in the bed smiled and gestured for her to come on in, while the man in the chair stood and came forward, gun drawn.

"Who are you?"

She slowly reached into her jacket pocket and withdrew her badge and I.D. and held it out. "Mary Margaret Skalany, Peter's partner."

Tom glanced over at Peter and received a nod and an okay sign in response. He took her I.D., checked it and handed it back. "Sorry," he said as he holstered his weapon.

"No problem. You must be Tom," she said, holding out a hand.

He nodded and the two officers shook hands.

"Glad to meet you." She walked over to the bed. "How're you feeling, partner?"

He flashed her an okay sign.

"Well, I've got some medicine from your dad. He said it should make you feel better. He wanted to come himself, but he said he needed to stay with Mrs. Lim."

He nodded. He was disappointed that his father hadn't come, but he understood. Mrs. Lim had had a difficult pregnancy and his father had had to spend hours concocting various potions for her. He raised his good hand about a foot over his stomach.

Mary Margaret laughed. "She's not that pregnant!" she protested.

Peter nodded and held up three fingers.

"Triplets?" Tom asked.

He nodded. He held up two fingers then pointed at Mary Margaret then one finger and pointed at Tom.

"Two girls and a boy?" Tom asked. He looked over at Mary Margaret in confusion. "Ultrasound?"

Peter shook his head then, wincing, turned in the bed so he could hold his palm a few inches above Mary Margaret's stomach.

Tom frowned. "You've got to be kidding."

"I've seen him do it," Mary Margaret insisted. "He only tells if the parents ask, but he's always right."

"How?"

"Peter's father is a Shaolin priest in Chinatown. He's also an apothecary," she explained.

"What's that?" Tom asked as she pulled some bottles and a large jar from her purse.

"Chinese herbal medicine," Peter wrote. "Always tastes awful!" He suddenly dropped the marker and gasped in pain.

"What is it?"

"Cramp!" he answered, his voice was as rough as sandpaper.

"Your hand or your side?"

"Both."

Mary Margaret and Tom helped him turn in the bed so he was lying flat again.

"Thanks," he breathed.

"Peter, you've got to slow down," Mary Margaret said as she massaged his fingers and the muscles in his forearm.

"I'll try," he whispered then groaned as she touched a sensitive spot.  
She pulled the cork out of one of the bottles and poured some into the cup from the nightstand. "Here. If I remember right, this is for your throat."  
He took the cup and downed the medicine, making a terrible face."It smelled better before he brewed it," she told him as she poured some of the contents of the second bottle into the cup, added water and held it out to him. "This is for the pain."

He drank the contents of the cup and handed it back. 

She filled the cup with plain water and had him drink that before she gave him a dose from the final bottle.

"What's that one for?" Tom asked.

She peered at the label. "I think this one's... uh... I can't read it. He said to give it to him after a glass of water. It's got to be something important." She held it out to Peter.

"It's complicated," Peter wrote. "It's like vitamins - strengthens the chi."

Mary Margaret nodded. "That's right," she agreed as she remembered what Caine had told her the night before. "Oh, and your dad said not to try to talk until tomorrow morning."

He nodded.

"This stuff is some sort of salve for your bruises. I guess it's supposed to take the soreness out of your muscles." She opened the jar, surprised at the pleasant smell. She very gently applied some to the bruises on his face. 

He flinched.

"Cold?"

He nodded.  
"Give it a minute."

She was right, within a moment, there was a pleasant tingling and the ache he'd been feeling eased.

"You want me to put more on?"

He nodded. "Feels good," he whispered.

"Okay," she said and, with Tom's help, applied the green concoction to the worst of the bruises on his chest and arms.

Peter relaxed on the bed, feeling better than he had since the attack.

She glanced at her watch. "It's still a couple of hours until dinner, why don't you try to sleep?"

"Tired of sleeping," he wrote.

She grinned. "Let's see how long you last."

Ten minutes later, Peter was asleep. Mary Margaret looked over at Tom. "Told you he wouldn't last very long."

Tom yawned.

"Looks like you've had a rough day, too," she said, smiling. "I'll sit with him for a while if you want to lie down. I'll wake you before I leave."

"That would be great," Tom agreed. He walked over to the cot, stepped out of his shoes and laid down. He was asleep in minutes. 

* * * * * 

Wednesday, February 11th:   
"Captain Simms, Captain Lipschitz here. How are you doin' this morning?"

"Good morning, Captain," Simms answered. "How is Peter?"

"Much better. He's got his voice back and the doctor says he'll be out of the hospital in a few days."

"Wonderful! I'll send someone to let his father know."

"I'd like to ask a favor."

"Certainly, Captain."

"Call me Harry, please."

"Okay, Harry. I'm Karen. What can I do for you?"

"I'd like to borrow Griffin and Skalany for a couple of days. Just until we find out who hurt Peter."

"Let me check with my Chief. Can you hold for a moment?"

"Certainly."

Harry looked over arrest reports while he waited. 

After a few moments, she came back on the line. "Harry?"

"Yeah."  
"Things are pretty quiet right now, but I'd like them back within a week whether Peter's attackers are in custody or not. We'll make other arrangements for the trial, if we need to."

"You have a deal."

"Oh, and tell my people to behave, Harry. They can be... stubborn at times."

"I know the feeling, Karen, I've got a couple of detectives that are pretty "stubborn" too."

They said good-bye and hung up.

Michelle Muselli walked into Harry Lipschitz' office, a big grin on her face. "Morning, Harry!"

"Good news?"

She dropped a video tape onto the desk. 

"What's this?"

"Tape from the security cameras at the Fairbanks."

"You're kidding?"

She shook her head. "Bubba double-checked the recorders. We got something from two different cameras and you owe Bubba a twelve pack of Red Dog."

"So, I'm out what, two bucks?"

She grinned. "I'll set up the VCR."

Harry stood and opened the office door. "Kermit, Cassy, Mary Margaret, you wanna come in here?"

Kermit and Cassy appeared. 

"Mary Margaret's at the hospital, Harry. What's up?" Kermit asked, glancing through a file folder.

"Watch." Harry hit the "play" button on the remote.

They watched as Peter and Kermit got out of the car. Kermit walked off and Peter went to the trunk. Two men appeared and one shoved a spray can in Peter's face. Cassy gasped and even Kermit couldn't suppress a groan as Peter tried desperately to get away but, blinded by the spray, the two men were too much for him. Peter finally managed to fight back and knock the other men to the ground. They watched him stagger away and the men run off as a car approached. There was a moment of blank tape, then they were watching the garage exit. A blue car with a white logo drove out of the garage, nearly knocking one of the valets into another car.

"I want to talk to that valet!" Harry announced.

"I'm assuming you've got access to high-tech video equipment," Kermit said.

"You want a better look at that logo, I'll bet," Harry assumed. 

Kermit grinned. "Oh yeah."

"Of course. Cassy, can you get your friends on this?"  
"You got it, Harry." 

* * * * * 

Two hours later, Cassy and Kermit returned with huge grins on their faces.

"Well?" Harry asked.

"Castaneda Enterprises," Cassy told him. 

"You mean the perps were stupid enough to use the company car?"

"Yeah," Kermit answered. "Real Abbott and Costello types."

"Did you talk to that valet that they nearly ran down?"

Cassy nodded. "He didn't see the passenger, but he did see the driver - he's looking at the mug books right now, but from his description, I think it's Juan Fernando. He and Tom got into a fight the night we arrested Castaneda."

"Yeah, he's the one that tried to scalp Tom, isn't he?"

Cassy nodded. "He's out on parole and back working for Castaneda.   
You'd think he'd have better sense."

"Nothing about this makes sense, Cassy," Harry said quietly. "Tom was just the one who arrested him, Mike and Sally did the actual investigation, then got hauled off the case when Castaneda raised a stink with the D.A.'s office. You and Tom went with their information."

"I hate it when that happens," Kermit said. "I take it Castaneda's not one of your more upstanding citizens."

"You could say that," Cassy agreed. "We arrested him four months ago for murdering his wife."

"Nice guy." 

Harry slapped the top of his desk. "I think it's time we had a talk with Mr. Castaneda, don't you?"

Kermit pulled his Desert Eagle from its holster, checked the ammunition and grinned. "Oh yeah."

Harry stared at the huge pistol with the scope on the barrel in amazement. "You hunting elephants, Detective?"

Kermit shrugged. "Just a little something I picked up a few years ago," he said. "Works great on hackers." 

* * * * * 

Frank Castaneda, a man whose income was questionable at best, lived in a large mansion on the other side of the island. He'd managed to finagle a deal that allowed him out of custody while he was awaiting trial. Cassy hadn't liked the man from the start and Tom had another scar to add to his collection from a scuffle with Castaneda's men when they arrived to arrest him. Fortunately, this one had been above his hairline so, unless he decided to shave his head for some reason, no one would know it had ever existed.

"Detective St. John, I heard about your partner's condition. It's a shame. It's getting so you can't go out after sundown anymore - perhaps I should have a word with the Commissioner... see if he'll have some task forces set up. I'd even be willing to contribute to the cause. What brings you and these gentlemen to my office today?" Frank Castaneda asked.

"This is Detective Kermit Griffin and you already know Captain Lipschitz. We'd like to ask you some questions."

"I thought we dealt with all that the day you and your partner had me falsely arrested."

"Mr. Castaneda, you were found holding a knife over your wife," Harry said.

"No, your officers concocted that story to frame me. If you have any further questions, I suggest you contact my attorney."

Cassy slammed the photographs her friends had managed to print from the video tape down onto the man's desk. "Oh? And you didn't send a couple of your employees after Tom Ryan."

"Now, why would I do that? These photographs only show one of our cars leaving a parking garage, how can you prove my involvement or that of any of my employees?"

Cassy shook her head. "I was there when you threatened Tom."

"Heat of the moment, Detective St. John. You obviously don't have enough to go to the D.A., or you wouldn't be here. I'd like you to leave, now."

Cassy stormed out of the room, followed closely by Kermit and Harry. 

As soon as the door slammed behind them, Castaneda picked up a phone and dialed.

"It's me," he said into the receiver. "I don't care how, just do it or you know what happens. Don't blubber, damnit. I told you what needs to be done. I don't care if he is a cop - I want him taken care of!"

* * * * * 

Juan waited in the corridor while Jeff entered the hospital room as quietly as he could. The lights were all off except for a small lamp shining dimly on the chair. A book had been left lying open on the seat.  
He looked down at still figure in the bed. Despite the bruises, he could easily see that it was the same man he and Juan had attacked three days earlier.

Jeff picked up a pillow from the empty cot and placed it over the injured man's face. The man in the bed came up fighting and suddenly Jeff found himself on the floor staring into the barrel of a gun. He swore and took a swing at the other man.

Peter doubled over and collapsed, groaning, into a heap as Jeff hit him again in his already injured ribs.

Jeff grabbed the gun out of Peter's limp hand and got to his feet. 

"Damn," he swore, "it's a trap!" He headed for the door.

The door to the bathroom slammed open and Tom Ryan, gun drawn, was suddenly between him and the door. "That's far enough, Jeff," he said. "You're under arrest."

"Damn, two of them?" Jeff cried, raising his hands.  
Juan shoved the door open from the hallway, hitting Tom in the back with the door handle and sending the detective staggering into the wall. Jeff stopped just long enough to punch Tom in the stomach before he shot out the door.

"Why do they always run?" Tom groaned as he straightened. "Peter, are you okay?"

There was no response from the tangle of sheets and blankets on the other side of the bed.

"Tom, what the hell's happening in there?" Harry's voice barked in his ear.

"They surprised us," Tom reported, trying to catch his breath.

"I've got them," Kermit announced. "They're headed for the roof."

"Why do they always head for the roof?" Tom moaned. "You better get somebody in here to check on Peter."

"Tom, are you okay?" Cassy asked worriedly.

"I've been better, Cass," he admitted. "I'm headed for the stairs."

"Right behind you," Kermit said.

"Me, too," Cassy chimed in.

"So am I," Mary Margaret announced.

"I'll take care of Peter," came from Harry.

The officers burst out onto the roof, all eyes scanning for the two suspects.

"Okay, come on out," Tom called. "I am not in the mood for a game of Hide and Seek!" He walked away from the group, which slowly spread out to search the roof.

"Come on, guys," Cassy taunted. "I hear they're having pizza in lockup tonight."  
It was Juan who first broke from cover, dashing back for the stairs. Mary Margaret wheeled and trained her gun on him. He froze, hands raised.  
"Down, Tom!" Kermit yelled as Jeff suddenly popped up from behind one of the air conditioning units and fired the gun he'd taken from Peter.  
The ex-mercenary's warning came too late and he was in the wrong position himself to get a clear shot at Jeff.

Cassy let out a shriek as Tom grunted and fell over a low wall, vanishing from sight.

Jeff moved forward and Kermit was finally able to get a shot at the other man, dropping him immediately.

Kermit threw Jeff's gun away and bent to cuff him to a pipe then raced to the spot where Tom had fallen.

"I can't look!" Cassy wailed as Mary Margaret cuffed Juan to another pipe.  
Frowning, Kermit peered over the edge, mentally preparing himself for the image of Tom's broken body lying on the pavement eight stories below. 

Kermit grinned, then laughed. "It's all right, ladies," he said. 

"What?" Cassy and Mary Margaret asked in disbelief. They moved forward to look over the edge.

Kermit jumped off the roof and landed on a large decorative ledge about six feet below. He knelt to examine the other man. "Looks like the bullet just grazed his arm, Cassy," he called. "Harry, are you still there?"

"Yeah, Kermit. Did you get them?"

"Oh yeah."

"Good."

"Well, not exactly. Looks like Peter's going to have a roommate," he reported.

"What've you got?"

"We'll need a doctor up here. We've got two men down. I shot Jeff in the leg and Tom fell off the roof."

"What?"

Kermit smiled. "He landed on the ledge that goes along the north and south sides of the building. He's more dazed than anything, but I think his arm may be broken."

"Oh, Jeez. Looks like Tom's getting as accident prone as Peter," Harry complained.

"No, Peter would have probably missed the ledge entirely and would be hanging from the edge."

Kermit took off his tie and borrowed the scarf Mary Margaret was wearing, then bent down to remove Tom's tie. He knotted the scarf and ties together and used them to tie Tom's obviously broken arm tight against his chest so they wouldn't do more damage when they moved him. The younger man was larger than Kermit and there was no way he and the women could get him back onto the roof on their own. He would have to leave him on the ledge until help could come, but he was worried that Tom might come to and roll off. Tom was already starting to stir and Kermit dragged him over closer to the building.  
Harry and Dr. Chambers arrived with orderlies, nurses and three uniformed officers. The orderlies and the officers took only a moment to get Tom up onto the roof and onto a stretcher before they pulled Kermit up, as well.. Dr. Chambers quickly examined Jeff's wound and had the orderlies and officers take him downstairs.

Tom opened his eyes as Dr. Chambers was examining him and looked up at Cassy. "You're not gonna hit me again, are you?" he asked groggily. He winced as he tried unsuccessfully to get comfortable.

Cassy leaned over and kissed him. 

"Ow!" Tom tried to sit up and was immediately pushed back down by Cassy and Chambers. 

Dr. Chambers looked up at Kermit. "You shoot this one, too?"

"No, only the other one," he admitted, pointing to the stairwell where Jeff had been taken.

"Nice shot, by the way," Chambers said. "Clean through. Some tissue damage, but nothing that won't grow back. Better than he deserved for trying to kill a cop."

Kermit shrugged. "Practice makes perfect."

"Definitely a broken arm," Chambers said. "The bullet wound doesn't look too bad, but..." He shone a light in Tom's eyes then held up two fingers. "Tom, how many fingers?"

Tom blinked, trying to focus. "Um, eight."

"Thought so. I want to keep him overnight just to be sure, but he'll be fine."

"Thank God," Harry whispered.

Chambers looked up and gave instructions to one of the orderlies. "Put Superman here in 212 as soon as he's been down to ER," he said, smiling. 

"Is Peter okay?" Mary Margaret asked. Harry nodded. "He's fine. He just got the wind knocked out of him."

The elevator didn't come to the roof, so Tom would have to be carried down to the floor below. Kermit and one of the orderlies lifted the stretcher off the roof and headed for the stairs. 

* * * * * 

Peter sighed tiredly. Harry and one of the nurses had helped him back into bed, but he ached all over - again. He felt like a jumble of broken pottery - all sharp edges and almost fragile and it bothered him. He couldn't believe the weakness he felt in his body. He'd been beaten up before, but it had never been this bad. The medicines his father had sent with Mary Margaret had helped, but she had them in her purse and one of them was almost gone now anyway. He thought about ringing for the nurse, but he hated the half-asleep, half-awake way pain medication made him feel and meditation just wasn't working either right now.

He wondered how the stake-out was going. Harry had taken the tiny radio with him when he left to go to the roof. The last thing he had heard was that there were two men down, but no news as to who it had been. He had never been very good at waiting.

Jackie Templar appeared at the door. "I hear you've had a rough afternoon."

Peter nodded. "You could say that."

"Would you like me to ask the doctor to prescribe something for the pain?"  
Peter shook his head. "No, thank you."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Well, at least let me get you some fresh water."

"That would be great, thank you."

She picked up the pitcher and left, returning a few minutes later. She filled the cup for him and placed it within reach. "Okay, you know how to reach me if you need anything."

"Thanks."

She left the room.

Peter picked up the cup and took a long swallow of the water. The ice cold water tasted a little funny but it felt so good on his throat that he ignored the warning bells going off weakly in his mind and finished the cup. After several moments, the cup clattered to the floor and he jumped, surprised that he had fallen asleep so easily with all the sleep he'd gotten in the last two days.

He heard the door open and half-opened his eyes to see Jackie Templar returning. She walked over to him and pulled a syringe from her pocket. She pulled the cap off and bent to inject something into his arm. 

He pulled away groggily. "No, I told you..."

"It's only pain medication," she said quietly.

"I told you before - I don't want anything." He stared at her, suddenly suspicious of her intentions.

"If you're going to be difficult, I'll get an orderly in here." 

Peter struck out at her with his splinted arm. "No!"

"Just lie still, damnit!" She caught his injured arm and twisted hard then released it.

He cried out as his muscles protested. He cradled his arm protectively.

Kermit burst through the door, aiming almost by instinct. "What the hell's going on in here?"

"I'm just trying to give him an injection for the pain," she said innocently.

"Did he ask for it?" Kermit asked, walking over to the bed.

"Yes, of course."

Kermit glanced down at Peter's pale face and read the pain and fear in his hazel eyes. "Peter?"

The younger man shook his head. "N - No!" he whispered. 

Kermit lowered the gun slightly. "Looks like you misunderstood, Jackie."

She quickly jabbed the needle into Peter's arm, but she was unconscious before she could push the plunger. Kermit's fist shot out and she dropped across Peter's body.

"Thanks," Peter breathed as Kermit pushed the nurse's body off onto the floor.

"I wonder what's in this," Kermit said as he reached over and pulled the syringe from his friend's arm.

"Nothing good."

"I'll bet. Are you okay?"

Peter shook his head. "N-No, I don't think so. Y-you better get the doctor in here," he said and let out a sigh as his head lolled against the pillow.

"Peter?"

There was no response. Kermit felt for a pulse then went quickly to the phone.

"Don't worry about her," Kermit said as the doctor arrived and immediately went to Jackie's still form. "She tried to kill Peter."  
Chambers frowned, but went to Peter and examined him while Kermit bent to search Jackie.  
"His pulse is strong," Chambers announced, sighing in relief. "Did she manage to...?"

"No, I think I stopped her in time."

"I wonder what's in the syringe," he said as he picked up the phone and made a call. A lab tech appeared and took a blood sample. Chambers handed the tech the syringe Jackie had tried to use on Peter. "I need the results back on both of these immediately," Chambers said.

Kermit stood. He held up a bottle of tablets and a small vial. "Maybe this is it."

Chambers frowned at the labels. He rattled the bottle. "These are just sleeping pills, I guess she didn't want him to be able to fight her. This a sample bottle so there were only ten tablets there to begin with and there are only six now." He glared at the vial. "But there's no reason to give your friend this..."

"What is it?"

"Pavulon. It's a muscle relaxant - a derivative of curare. They use it in the OR for anesthesia when a patient's allergic to other drugs. It would have looked like he died of respiratory failure." Chambers called the lab and told them to check the blood sample for Pavulon. "If the lab techs know what to look for it should speed things up." He frowned as he checked Peter's pulse again, his eyes on Peter's face. "Mary Margaret told me about the herbal medicines his father sent down and, if I'm right, there's a good possibility of an unpleasant reaction, especially if Jackie gave him a double dose of those sleeping pills. You'd better help me turn him onto his side, he's going to be sick as hell in about a minute."

Kermit nodded and the two of them rolled Peter over. 

Peter opened his eyes at the movement and groaned. "What?"

"Easy, Peter," Kermit said quietly.

"Huh?"

"Just relax. Meditate or something, okay?"

"I'll try," the younger man promised groggily.

Kermit's instructions didn't have any effect on Peter's stomach and, exactly as Chambers had predicted, Peter was indeed "sick as hell" in the small tub Dr. Chambers held in front of him. After a few moments, the younger man dropped back onto the bed in exhaustion.

The phone rang a short time later. Chambers picked it up, listened and smiled. "Looks like everything's okay, Kermit. None of the Pavulon got into his system." 

Kermit hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath from the moment the phone rang. He dropped into the chair, relief washing across his face. "If I'd been a few seconds later..."

"Well, your friend's going to be fine," Chambers assured him. "Now, I've got to make arrangements for that other hot-shot." 

* * * * * 

It was another two days before Peter and Tom were released from the hospital and then only after promising Dr. Chambers that they would take things slowly.

Tom and Cassy picked Peter, Kermit and Mary Margaret up at the hotel the next day and the five of them headed for the beach.  
Peter and Tom had casts on their arms so they had to stay out of the water, but they lay on large, brightly colored towels, wearing sunglasses, shorts and sandals, covered with sunscreen, enjoying the warmth of the sun after so many days cooped up indoors. Cassy and Mary Margaret, in their bikinis, headed for the water, leaving the men on the beach.

Peter looked over to where Kermit was talking to a well-built redhead near one of the ice cream vendors. It seemed strange to see the ex-mercenary in sandals, cut-offs and a T-shirt with a huge palm tree on the back, but he looked like he was enjoying the conversation. He took a sip of the soda, Cassy had pulled from the cooler for him and sighed contentedly. "I could get used to this," he said, eyeing the parade of beautiful, bikini-clad women walking along the beach.

A shadow fell across the sand. They looked up to see Harry standing over them. "I've been looking all over for you guys."

"We're right here," Tom said, grinning and motioning toward the cooler. "Have a soda, Harry."

Kermit came over, followed a moment later by Cassy and Mary Margaret. 

Cassy looked down at the two men lying on the towels in the sun. Peter's bruises had faded considerably thanks to the salve his father had sent with Mary Margaret. Seeing them together, it really was difficult to tell them apart. Tom's hair was shorter and a shade lighter than Peter's and Tom was a little taller and thinner. Their accents were a bit different too. Peter had a very slight, almost New York accent - definitely "Yankee" and Tom's was more Floridian. It was actually easier to tell them apart right now, if you knew that Peter's right arm was in a cast while Tom's left was the one covered in plaster.

Harry pulled a soda from the cooler and sat down on the towel Mary Margaret laid out for him. He opened the can, took a few swallows and grinned. "I've got great news. Jackie Templar, Juan Fernando and Jeff Simpson confessed and ratted out Castaneda. Jackie's Jeff's wife, by the way, and Castaneda threatened to have him killed if she didn't "do her job" and try to kill Tom. I guess she didn't know about Peter - she'd been off from the night Peter got beat up til the other morning when Juan and Jeff tried to attack him again in the hospital room. Anyway, the D.A.'s indicting Castaneda on attempted murder and conspiracy to commit murder. If all goes well, Mr. Castaneda won't see daylight for a VERY long time."

"That's great, Harry!" Tom said with a grin.

"You and Kermit will be back for the trial, of course?" he asked Peter.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Peter promised. 

"Oh my God!!!! There ARE two of them!!!"

They looked up to see Marney standing nearby, staring in almost religious adoration and it was all they could do to keep from laughing as she wandered away, wringing her hands and mumbling in delight, a huge grin on her round face.

 

"Uh-oh," Peter said.

"Harry, I do NOT want to be alone with that woman for at least a month," Tom insisted. "I feel like the last piece of chocolate cake at a Weight Watchers convention?"

"Tom, she's harmless," Harry shot back.

Tom shivered despite the heat of the afternoon.

"That's the way women have felt for..." Cassy began.

"Oh, no, here we go again!" Tom and Peter complained, remembering a lecture they'd received from the two women earlier that day. Mary Margaret and Cassy giggled and Cassy reached into the cooler and flicked icy water at the two men.


End file.
